


The Best Man

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Exes, F/M, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only for a few months almost four years ago.</p><p>There's no reason for Bellamy to be uncomfortable with his ex-girlfriend being the other best man at his friend's wedding.  No reason at all.</p><p>He's totally, completely, 100% fine with it.</p><p>(Except, you know, he isn't.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I intended for this to be a drabble but it sort of got away from me.

Bellamy knew what was coming the moment Miller sat down next to him at the bar, a serious look written across his face.  “Yeah, I know. She’s coming to the wedding,” Bellamy said with a resigned sigh.

 

“Clarke’s Monty’s best friend,” Miller replied.  “She’s his best man.  And--”

 

“--and I’m your best man, so I’d better get over my broken heart,” Bellamy finished.  “I told you, I’m fine.  I’ve been fine.”

 

“You’ve been avoiding her for three years,” Miller countered.  “That’s not exactly fine.”

 

Bellamy worried the label on his beer bottle.  “How we ended...it’s complicated.  But I’m over her and she’s over me.  It’s fine.”

 

“Whatever you say, man,” Miller said, but he didn’t look like he believed it.

 

Bellamy had nine more months to prepare himself, and by the day of the rehearsal, he’d convinced himself that he had been telling Miller the truth.  There was no reason for anyone’s concern, because he and Clarke had only dated for three months almost four years ago.  That was hardly worth all the worried glances and pep talks from Octavia and Raven.  He’d dated since she left for med school--not terribly seriously, but he’d given it his best shot--and yeah, maybe he made a point of being busy whenever Clarke made a brief trip back to visit their friends, but that was just so he wouldn’t make it awkward for her.

 

They hadn’t spoken since that last awful phone call, full of unshed tears and regret.  But there wasn’t any other option; Clarke was going to be in California for four years with a residency after that, and Bellamy had just started grad school in Virginia.  It wasn’t supposed to be anything, really, just a kiss after one too many beers the summer before their lives were about to change.  A kiss that turned into some of the best sex of his life and long, lazy weekends spent ordering take out and cuddling on her couch, and when it came time for her to leave suddenly neither of them had the heart to end it the way they’d planned, so they foolishly tried long distance even though they had no real plan for weathering four-to-seven years on opposite coasts.   For one awful, strained month they juggled classes and new student mixers and part time jobs, but a four hour time difference and two rigorous programs meant they were constantly missing each other’s calls, and Bellamy’s shitty internet made skyping almost impossible.  So he wasn’t really surprised when she called him on a Sunday afternoon and tearfully told him she didn’t think it was working.  Bellamy agreed with her, even though it hurt more than he thought it would.  For weeks after he thought about calling her and begging her to give it another chance, but he never did because what was the point?  She was there and he was here and they could barely find time to talk to each other as it was, so Bellamy let her go.  

 

Clarke hurried into the rehearsal a few minutes late, breezing to the back corner of the ceremony site and kissing Monty on the cheek.  Bellamy’s heart did a weak flip flop at the sight of her, but by the time she joined him and the rest of the wedding party it had returned to its normal cadence.   _See?  I’m fine_ , he told himself.   _Nothing to worry about._  Clarke gave Wick a hug hello and shook hands with Miller’s cousin before turning to Bellamy.  “Hey,” she said a little awkwardly and gave him a hug that contained entirely too much distance.  It only served to remind him of the way she’d clung to him as they stood in front of airport security on a hot day in August four years ago.

 

Bellamy was saved from having to say anything more than an equally awkward hello by the officiant and made it through the rehearsal without incident, even when she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as he escorted her down the aisle.  The rehearsal dinner was an informal affair and Monty and Miller’s house, with their fathers’ attempting to outdo each other with their secret barbeque recipe and so many people packed into the backyard Bellamy wasn’t entirely sure Clarke was even there.  (That was a lie--he knew where she was the entire night, like his body had installed a Clarke-GPS system without his knowledge).

 

They made it through pictures by making small talk, like they were strangers instead of old friends that had fallen into bed together after years of sparks and almost-moments. Clarke showed Bellamy pictures of her cat and Bellamy explained his dissertation, and when Miller surreptitiously asked if he was okay during the dinner, Bellamy was able to tell him honestly that he was.  There might be a part of him that always wondered what would have happened if their timing had been a little better, but he was fine.  She was happy and he was happy for her, even if he was glad that he spent dinner sandwiched between Miller and his cousin with Clarke at the far end of the head table.  His heart had done the flip flop thing when he walked up to her at the end of the aisle and she smiled at him, radiant in her black strapless dress, so a little distance was for the best but really, he was fine.

 

He was so fine, in fact, that after three glasses of champagne he saw her sitting by herself at a table, picking at a cupcake, and decided to go talk to her again.  She seemed surprised to see him but smiled anyway and gestured to the chair next to her.  “It’s good to see you,” he said, even though he’d probably told her that already.  He meant it and he wanted her to know, because now that he saw her again he remembered what he had been missing.

 

Clarke’s smile was almost sad.  “It’s good to see you too.”  She pinched a piece of cupcake between her forefinger and thumb and popped it in her mouth.  “I’m surprised you didn’t bring a date.  Weren’t you seeing someone over Christmas?”  The subject change was blatant, but Bellamy decided to let that go.

 

“That was probably two Christmases ago, but Echo and I sort of...fizzled.  But it wasn’t ever very serious.  Whatever happened to your girlfriend?  Lexi?”  If they were going to talk about exes, he wasn’t going to shy away from it.  Clarke had brought her home to meet everyone last year, but all Miller had told him was _she’s terrifying so I guess Clarke has a type_.

 

“Lexa,” Clarke corrected gently.  “And it was serious, until it wasn’t anymore. It’s over now.  I didn’t know you knew about her.”

 

“Miller and Monty filled me in.”

 

“I should have guessed,” Clarke said, her eyes finding Miller and Monty swaying together on the dance floor.

 

“I’m sorry I avoided you,” Bellamy blurted out.  “I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

Clarke traced the pattern on a napkin with her finger.  “I kind of thought you hated me for awhile,” she said quietly.

 

“I wanted to,” he admitted.  “That would have been easier.  But you were right--we weren’t working, and we wouldn’t, so it was better to end it.”  Clarke looked like she was about to say something, but Bellamy didn’t want to go down that road anymore.  That road only led to regret, and he was sick of it.  “Come on, let’s dance,” he said instead, and stood to offer her his hand.  “Friends can dance, right?”

 

“Are we friends?” Clarke asked curiously.

 

“We were before, right?  No reason we can’t be again.”

 

The second her hand slipped into his Bellamy doubted his words but he couldn’t back down now, so he led her out onto the dance floor and placed his hand on her waist.  Clarke put her hand on his shoulder and bit back a smile.  His heart started beating a little faster, and then Bellamy made the colossal mistake of looking her in the eye.  Her pupils were blown wide in the dim light and all that was left of the bright blue was a slim circle, but in that one moment he felt as though he’d taken a blow to the chest.  His lungs tightened and his heart rate picked up even more, so he pulled her just a little closer. He wouldn’t have to look in her eyes if her temple was next to his jaw, he figured, but that was even more of a disaster because now he could smell her perfume and that sent his brain back to a time when he could touch her like this whenever he wanted.  His heart was thudding so loudly he was pretty sure she could hear it as the space between them slowly collapsed.  He curled his fingers around her hand and pressed it just above his heart and her other hand left his shoulder to wrap around his back.  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, and Bellamy’s throat felt so thick he wasn’t sure he could speak.

 

“I’ve missed you too,” he finally managed, and ducked his head so his lips were pressed to the bare skin of her shoulder.  Clarke buried her face in his neck and they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms and hardly moving, just breathing each other in, until the song faded out and a faster one took its place.  Bellamy reluctantly let go and blinked rapidly.  “I can’t do this.  I’m sorry--I want to, but I can’t...I can’t lose you again.”  He marched toward the double doors at the other end of the hall without looking back, even though he could hear her heels clicking after him.  He stepped onto the patio and gulped down the cool spring air and pretended he didn’t know she was standing right behind him.  Looking at her would probably shatter whatever resolve he had left, so he stared resolutely out over the country club grounds.

 

“You won’t lose me,” Clarke said softly.  “You won’t.”

 

Bellamy gripped the railing in front of him so tightly his knuckles turned white.  “What’s different this time?  You’re still there and I’m still here.”

 

“I’m not though.”  She moved next to him and rested her hand over his.  “It was Match Day last week; I got my residency assignment and it’s here.  I start in June.”

 

Bellamy turned his head as a slow smile spread across her face.  “You’re coming back?”  

 

Clarke stepped closer and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.  “No.  I’m coming home.”

 


	2. Clarke POV

Clarke wondered if he felt her hand trembling when he offered her his arm to escort her down the aisle, looking entirely too handsome in his tux.  If Bellamy noticed her nerves he gave her no indication and by the time dinner was over, Clarke had the answer to the question that had been keeping her up for the last week.   _There’s nothing there.  He’s over me, and it was stupid to think he wouldn’t be_.  Bellamy barely even talked to her outside of their forced chit-chat while Monty and Miller posted for pictures, so she retired to an empty table to drown her feelings with her third cupcake.

She smothered the bubble of hope that appeared in her chest when he sat down next to her, but it stubbornly resurfaced when he held his hand out and asked her to dance.  Clarke tried to keep her distance even in his arms, but they could never just orbit one another safely.  She felt herself pulled toward him by a force stronger than gravity, and when he dipped his head to press his lips to her shoulder she buried her face in him and breathed him in.  She couldn’t believe how familiar he smelled after so long, like cologne and clean laundry.  Clarke let herself melt into him and for just a few minutes, she stopped thinking and worrying and let herself enjoy the feel of Bellamy’s arms around her once more.

When he walked away, looking so wrecked and unhappy, she chased after him, and when she promised him that she was coming home, she couldn’t stop her smile.  Even better was the way he caught her in his arms and kissed her, hungry and needy, like he was drowning in her.  She was certainly lost in him, and when he asked if she wanted to come home with him, his voice low and raspy in the way she adored, all she could do was nod.

When they fell into bed together the first time, Bellamy was living with Miller so they spent most of their time at her place.  But his tiny, cramped apartment felt so right–so Bellamy–that she couldn’t disguise her smile when he let her in.  The stacks of books, haphazard but in their own system, she suspected, felt more like home than her spartan apartment in Stanford ever had.  It felt like him, and when his arms slid around her and his lips whispered their way up her neck, Clarke lost herself in him.

And the next morning when she woke to find him smiling sleepily at her, she knew she’d made the right choice.


End file.
